Without Bulma
by chibitrunk
Summary: An unexpected turn of event had left Vegeta a single father to a newborn Bra and a teenage Trunks. How will he fare? This is a collection of shorts on their life without Bulma.
1. Anniversary and Birthday

**A/N: **Here's a piece that had been floating inside my head for a while. I finally dare to write it. Hope I made the right choice.

* * *

**Without Bulma**

**Anniversary and Birthday**

* * *

Ten years. Ten years had passed since that day.

His life had been turned upside down and inside out. It was an understatement to say he had lived through hell. The fiery pit of fire and the endless agonizing torment were probably a better option compared to the last ten years. Even reliving the demeaning torture from Frieza sounded more appealing.

On the day he first met her, he could already tell she was cunning even measured against Saiyan's standards. She was manipulative and had always gotten what she wanted. He had been a prime example of her shrewdness. He, the prince of all the Saiyans, had been entrapped by her wicked ways before knowing what had hit him.

Ten years ago, she had once again worked her shrewd trickery.

She left, leaving him with a promise, had forced a promise from him, binding him to the words he had given. She had challenged him, daring him to forsake his pride and run away like a coward.

Promise could be broken, but his pride was sacred to him. He could lose the world, the universe, but to lose his pride was just asking the prince of Saiyans to perish, to disappear from this world. She had gambled on that Saiyan's pride and won.

Ten years. For ten years, he had held onto his end of the bargains. He had almost given in, had come very close countless times. To hell with the promise. To hell with his pride, he had thought almost every day of his miserable life. Who the hell did she think she was?

In the end, he had prevailed.

She knew she could bind him to this world, but what she did not know was binding a Saiyan would come with unimaginable consequences.

Vegeta smirked. If only she was still alive to see his creation. He bet his pride she would curse him for eternity. He felt like laughing, felt like roaring so she could hear him in the afterlife. He wanted to scream that he won the challenge she had put forth. He was the winner and she had lost in every possible ways.

He took a step forward and felt the soft soil caved beneath his feet. "Woman, if you can see the future, you wouldn't have dragged that promise out of me," he said, his voice low with a hint of mockery and disdain. In front of him was a large stone with delicate inscription of two dates and some carefully picked words of how one would remember her by. He snorted. It had been up to him, the words on that stone would be something much more befitting of that cunning woman. "Now, I shall make you see the results of your foolishness," he said as a smirk form, feeling almost as malevolence as he did when he first arrived on this planet.

"Come, show your mother the new you," Vegeta said as he tilted his chin toward the stone.

A girl appeared beside him. He dropped his eyes downward and the smirk grew deeper, drawing a harder line along his cheek. Standing beside him with her arms crossed in the same manner as his, was his second born, dressed in a one piece blue gi with a light white shirt underneath, completed with a pair of white boots and gloves. He brought his eyes up to her head and paused. A true masterpiece, he mused.

The wind gushed by. Just like him, she stood still, impassive to the violent flapping of her loose gi. She nodded and replied, "Yes, dad."

There was shuffling from behind. Someone was making his way through the tall, dry grass. The shuffling stopped. There was a thud and then plop. Finally, he heard a sharp inward breath.

The boy finally arrived. Turning back, he saw Trunks with wide eyes, staring in disbelief at the one standing beside him. Beside the boy's feet were some spilled items. Roses and strawberries. He rolled his eyes so hard, the boy could no longer see his dark pupils. The same crap again. He swore the brat did not have a single creative bone in his body. That woman had always loved drama. The least Vegeta could do was to create one. Oh yes, he created one alright. That woman should be dancing in her grave right about now. He snickered.

"Bra! What happened to you!" his son cried out as he rushed to his sister, crouched down slightly so he was more or less eye level with Bra. The boy reached the area around her shoulder and grabbed what should have been hair and now replaced with nothing. "Your hair..." his brat muttered.

Trunks snapped his head up and shot him an accusatory glare and narrowed his eyes in suspicion, "Dad? What did you to Bra?"

"Stop being a drama queen. She looks perfectly fine to me," Vegeta retorted as he curled the corner of his lips, completely enjoying the reaction from his brat. Served the boy right for leaving the youngest alone with him. Any sane person would never leave a kid with him, ever.

"Don't you think I look like dad, Trunks?" His youngest smiled while sweeping her hand from the back of her neck up to the middle of her head and then rubbed it in a full circle.

The boy groaned. "Short, I can still understand, but the color..." Trunks turned to him again. "Really, dad, is this some kind of sick joke?"

If his son reacted so strongly to the new look, he could only imagine what the woman thought of his little gift. She had wanted a girl so she could dress her up with frilly, frizzy and lacy stuff. He wondered now what she thought of this daughter of hers. He grinned. Revenge was sweet. He almost laughed out loud but managed to stifle it, holding his composure so the boy did not think he had lost his mind.

"Bra, you're old enough to think for yourself, what in the world possessed you to listen to dad of all people," Trunks chastised, acting like it was the end of the world.

Vegeta rolled his eyes again. It was a shame he couldn't do more. Maybe next time, he could try those colored contacts, he smirked.

"I like it, Trunks. It's much better than long hair. Don't you like the spike?" Bra asked as she brushed the tip of her hair.

Another groan escaped from the brat. "You're a girl, Bra. You should start acting like one," Trunks said and sighed.

He scowled, not liking Trunks' tone. "And what's wrong on the way she acts?" He questioned, daring the boy to answer incorrectly. "She has more Saiyan's blood in her than you, brat."

"Yeah, Trunks. I happen to like this new style. It's so me," she said as she spun around, showing her brother her full transformation. He, too, found this style more fitting on his youngest. The less she looked like that woman, the better.

The boy slapped his head, unable to form a counter argument. Ever since that woman left, Trunks had started to become more and more like a nagging old lady, always complaining, always pestering him with stupid insignificant worries.

Bra moved next to him and crossed her arms again. Both father and daughter stood side by side, looking almost like an exact replica, from the outfit right up to the flamed dark hair, saved for the eye color. Sure, the hair was not exactly like his and it took many cans of those foul substances to hold it up. In the end, he ended up chopping it all off out of annoyance. Even though it was not identical, it was close enough. He thought he did a rather commendable job.

Both father and daughter had their nose in the air, staring down at the defeated Trunks. He could get used to this, he mused. Next time, he would focus on bringing a golden brat.

* * *

Trunks sighed, shaking his head. He should have seen this coming. One month. He had left his cute little sister with his dad for one month and already she was shaped, bent, twisted into his dad's little shadow.

The harm was done. Thankfully, it was only a superficial change and soon enough, her appearance would be back to normal. Trunks straightened and moved back to where he dropped his offering for his mother. He bent down and started to scoop all the blue roses back into a nice tidy bundle and proceeded to pick up the nicely weaved basket. One by one he dropped the strawberries back in.

"I'm leaving," said his father.

"Me, too!"

"Bra, did you say hi to mom yet?" he said as he walked over to the only family he had left in his world.

His sister shrugged before turning to face his mother's tomb and clapped her hands together in front of her chest. Closing her eyes, she hastily said, "Hi, mom. I hope you're okay wherever you are."

He heard his father snorted while moving further and further away. His sister snapped open her eyes and rushed to his father. "Dad, can we train now?"

"Hmph."

"Are you going to teach me your special move this time?" his sister asked, getting more and more excited. Her voice became more distant as his dad and sister continued their path into the field of golden weeds.

Trunks returned his attention on the grave. "Hi, mom. We survived another year," he greeted as he carefully set the roses against the tombstone. Brushing the dirt away from the square cemented altar, he continued, "Can you believe it?" He paused, feeling a lump forming behind his throat. He cleared it and waited a few more minutes before continuing. "Don't mind dad, he's still coping with you not being with us...in his own way. Yeah, I know, it's immature, but hey, at least he's not threatening to destroy the world anymore."

It had been a long, hard road. It had been bumpy, filled with cracks. On some days, the road even felt impassable. They had stumbled. They had fallen into crevices small and large. Though, eventually, they learned, learned to patch those fractures a little at a time.

"Bra is ten today."

Ten years ago on the same day, his mother left.

Ten years ago on the same day, Bra was born.

There had been many times he wished Bra was never born, maybe then, his mother would still be here. But that was all in the past. He had been young and a brat as his father always reminded him. Now, he could never imagine his baby sister not being around.

"I still wish you're here with us, but I think I'm okay now. You don't have to worry about us, so enjoy your time in heaven."

He pulled out a small box from his pocket and squeezed it in his hand. This was a present he bought for Bra, but he didn't give it to her along with the other nine presents. Maybe next year, he could sincerely wish her a happy birthday.

"Happy Birthday, Bra." he whispered before his mother's grave.

Maybe next year, he could say it so Bra could hear it.

* * *

**A/N: **The reason I was scared to write this piece is because I'm afraid that I can really ruin Vegeta's character. To me, Vegeta cares for his family, but I don't think he actively or willingly participates in raising his kids. So how will he raise Trunks and Bra all by himself? I hope I get it right. =)

Well, let me know what you think of this piece so far. More to come...

Thanks for reading!


	2. Lost and Found

**Lost and Found**

* * *

He quickened his steps, taking larger strides. He moved right and then left, bumping into pedestrians as he mowed through the narrow sidewalk. He didn't apologize, only mindlessly maneuvering through the crowed street as if he owned it.

"Tunks! Tunks!" cried a small little voice. He pretended he didn't hear it. He closed his eyes, squeezed them tight. He felt his feet picking up speed, further creating a distant between him and the little brat.

This was all her fault. Why did she have to scream and start a scene? Why couldn't she just behave like all the other kids? It was because of her that they were said all these bad stuff about his mom.

* * *

_Fifteen minutes ago..._

"Tunks! I want!" Bra tugged on his pants.

"No! Put it back!" Even without turning back, he could tell she had picked yet another item off the shelf.

"I want!"

Trunks threw a can of tomato sauce into his basket and spun around. He snapped one finger open and pointed down at his sister. Bra recoiled. Behind the three feet brat was a trail of smudged chocolate with chunks of cookie crumbs scattered on the aisle floor. Trunks traced the trail back to the culprit. On the face of the little brat were evidences of the smeared brown gunk and in her hands was a torn bag of jelly beans. Trunks growled and dropped his basket on the ground.

"Bra! How many times did I say you can't do that!" Trunks yelled and snatched the bag of jelly beans from her dirty hands.

"I want!" she cried, jumped up and tried to snatch it back. When she couldn't, she started to scream on top of her lungs.

"Whose kids are those?"

From the corner of his eyes, he saw two big women whispering among themselves while sneering in their directions.

"Bra! Shut up!"

"No! No! No!" Instead of quieting down, she threw herself on the ground, pounded and kicked the floor like a mad child.

"What kind of mother leaves her kids alone?"

"At least teach them some manners in public."

"Yeah, I know. If she can't, then she has no business raising kids."

Trunks shot them a nasty glare, causing them to shrink back a little. Trunks narrowed his eyes some more, sending them another warning. Finally, they got the message, retreated into the next aisle, face scrunched in disgust. As if on purpose, Trunks could hear their last words as they completely disappeared. "What a delinquent! If those are my kids, I would never let them act this."

He took a deep breath and picked up the brat from the waist. Bra continued to kick and scream, squirming away from his grasp. "If you don't stop it now, I'll leave you here!"

"You meany!" she cried louder and louder. Trunks looked around and felt everyone stopped to stare. He ignored them and rushed out the closest exit with Bra still kicking and screaming in his arms. He winced when he felt a bite through his light shirt.

When he exited the supermarket, he dropped her on the ground and started to walk away. "Don't follow me!"

* * *

The moisture hanging from his eyelids felt like salt on open wounds. He held his breath and blinked rapidly, forcing those hot tears back in his eyes. Letting the anger consumed him instead, he continued to stomp through the busy street. It was her fault that everyone was badmouthing his mom. Why was she always acting like a little brat, crying and screaming everywhere she went? Pan was nothing like her. Pan was always well-behaved.

All he had to do was to go home, then she couldn't find him, then he wouldn't have to deal with her anymore. His father wouldn't mind. Not like he would realize anything anyways.

"Tunks! Sowee!"

Sorry? He could forgive her for being an unreasonable little brat. He could forgive her for taking up all his time when he could be playing with Goten like any normal fifteen years old teenagers. But he could not forgive her for turning his mom into a laughing stock.

"Are you okay, little girl?"

"Tunks! No leave me!"

There was a thump, followed by deafening scream. He continued until her voice became more and more distant. Refusing to look back, he turned the corner into the alleyway. He took to the sky, not caring if his brat sister was all alone in the crowded street.

Trunks descended on his front lawn and pushed the door open. Without checking where his father was, Trunks marched up the stairs, took a left and went straight into his room. He plopped on his bed, bent his arms and laid them over his eyes. Peace and quiet.

He missed his mom so much. It was not until his mom was gone that he finally realized all the little subtle ways his mom had made their life easier. He never realized that foods did not magically appear on their dinner table, or clothes did not wash themselves. Aside from all that, what he missed most that his mom had always been there for him whether he was upset or happy. He needed that support now more than ever.

They told him time could mend a broken heart. Not his. If anything, the emptiness grew by the day. It was all Bra's fault. She was the reason why he would live with this feeling for the rest of his life. She could stay out in the street for all he cared.

He threw his body on its side and opened his eyes to stare at the white wall. _What kind of mother leaves her kids alone?. _A dead one, Trunks thought bitterly. He formed a fist and hurled it against the wall, adding another hole to his growing collection.

Footsteps. His dad. Damn, he forgot to close his door. It was too late to shut it so he threw the pillow over his head, smothering his face. He didn't want to deal with his dad right now.

The footsteps stopped outside his door and then complete silence. He knew his dad was watching him. Another minute passed and finally he heard his dad's low gruff voice.

"Trunks, where the hell is your sister?"

"I don't know and I don't care," he responded beneath the pillow.

Suddenly, he felt the pillow ripped from his head, exposing his face. Trunks peeped out through one eye and saw his dad casted his pillow aside. Crossing his arms, his dad gazed at him with cold dark eyes. "I don't care what happened, but if you don't find that brat and bring her home-"

Trunks cut off his dad and jumped upright to a sitting position, meeting his dad's stare with the same intensity. "Then what? Are you going to kick me out?" Trunks snorted.

"You wish."

Trunks growled and shouted. "It's so easy for you to tell me what to do. You don't have to deal with her everyday like I do!"

Once upon a time, Trunks had great respect for his dad, looked up to the man, put the man on the highest pedestal. These days, his dad did nothing but pissed him off. Had it ever crossed his dad's mind to help him out a little? Trunks wasn't asking for much, just an hour here and there with Bra, but no, his dad always blatantly refused.

"I'm your father. It's my right to order you around."

"Well, if you want her back, then find her yourself."

"Fine. We both stay here. Maybe if we're lucky, someone could snatch her away and then we can rid ourselves of our baggage. Works for me."

"That's not fair. You're playing the guilt trip card again."

"Trunks, life is never fair. If it was, I won't be here with you brats," his dad grunted as he started toward the door. "Just be prepared to tell that woman what happened when you see her on the other side."

"You have to answer to mom, too!" Trunks spat.

"Unlike you, I don't give a shit what that woman thinks of me."

Trunks gritted his teeth, unable to respond without lashing out. He feared he might regret spewing the hurtful words that were hanging from his tongue.

"I don't see why you even bother hanging around," he grumbled after his dad left the room, careful not to let his dad hear.

* * *

_Why did he even bother hanging around? _A question that he asked himself every day. There was a whole universe out there that he could make his home, but yet, here he was, playing caretaker to those brats who just happened to share his bloodline.

_Damn that woman! _How dare she left him with two brats? What the hell did he know about parenting? Now, he had a missing brat and another one throwing a hissy fit. He should just bring his teenage son into the gravity room and beat the crap out of him until the boy started to show him some respect.

Vegeta walked to the gravity room, a room that he had learned to maintain without the help of that woman. He entered and the door closed with a hiss. "Damn that boy," he growled as he leaned against the wall. He shut his eyes and tracked the boy's movement.

There was none for at least ten minutes and finally, the boy began to move. There were a lot of frustrations in the boy's ki, most likely from his indecision of rather to find his youngest brat or not. Another minute later, the boy's ki disappeared from the compound.

Vegeta pressed the button and the door opened with another hiss. He proceeded out the door and followed the boy. He didn't understand why he was following Trunks. It was not like he didn't trust him to bring the little brat back. It was not like he cared if Trunks found the brat or not. Like he had said earlier, it was better if the little one just disappeared, then he would free himself of one less headache. Besides, the little brat's disappearance was no fault of his, so technically, he did not break his promise.

But follow he did.

* * *

In the end, Trunks surrendered to his fate and finally decided to bring his brat sister back. He was still pissed especially after the conversation with his dad. But his dad was right. How would he explain to his mom? His mom had entrusted him with Bra. No matter how maddening the kid was, he would try his best not to disappoint her.

He flipped off the bed and walked out the door, stopping briefly in front of the gravity room where his dad had once again retreated into. _Typical. _Trunks scowled, passing the room and out the compound.

It was a short flight back to where he had last seen Bra, though, it was strange he could not detect her ki. He landed in the same alleyway where there was no one around. He shut his eyes to concentrate, filtering out all the other ki from the herd of pedestrians.

Nothing.

_Don't panic. _

One of explanations he could think of was that Bra had unconsciously suppressed her ki, but that was impossible. A kid her age could not control ki, let alone suppress it. Another one could be...

_Don't panic._

Trunks stepped out the alleyway and take a right into the busy street again. "Bra!" he cried out.

No respond.

He half ran and half skipped down the street, looking frantically for his little sister. Using his bare eyes, he focused, trying to spot a blue-haired three feet brat among the crowd.

Nothing.

When anger consumed him, he could wish the worst possible fate to befall on his sister. But he realized now he was all talk. He made his way back to the supermarket and ran in, straight to the check-out section.

"Do you remember me? I was with a little girl. She was screaming and crying."

"Yah, I remember," the brunette cashier responded casually, snapping her mouth open and close while chewing the gum.

"Have you seen her?" Trunks asked, ignoring the rude behavior.

"Nope."

"Are you sure?"

"Listen, kid. She's a bit hard to forget, so no, I did not see her."

Without thanking the girl, Trunks rushed out the supermarket. At the entrance, he spun his head right and then left. _Where is that brat? _For the first time, he felt his stomach constricted, tightened into a knot. All he could think about was all the ill wishes he had made was turning into reality.

* * *

From a hidden corner on the other side of the street, Vegeta watched the boy silently as he rushed up and down the street with a wild look on his face, stopping strangers, frantically demanding of his sister's whereabouts.

He snorted. He knew Trunks was all talk, even if the boy didn't know himself. Always complaining to him how much he hated Bra. Look at him now.

Vegeta closed his eyes. He was better at sensing ki, no matter how weak. As long as there was a spark left, he would have no problem pinpointing it. No far from where he was standing, he spotted the little brat's ki. He stepped back into the shadow and ascended into the air.

Within minutes, he reached his destination and slowly descended with his arms crossed and a deep scowl on his face. "What do you plan to do with her?" he demanded in his control but deadly voice.

"Where the hell did you come from?"

"That's none of your business. If you wish to live, drop her and get the hell out." Vegeta snarled.

The man pulled the knocked out brat closer, hugging her tight against his chest. "This is my daughter. What do you want with her?" the man said as he stepped back, checking his surrounding, doubtlessly searching for an escape route.

"One."

The man paled, sweats started to form around the forehead and his body started to shake.

"Two."

Sensing Vegeta was dead serious about the threat, the man dropped the girl before Vegeta had a chance to count to three. "Please don't hurt me."

His movement was too quick for the human eyes. A split second later, his brat was already in his arm. He sneered at the man. Slowly, he cornered the man into the brick wall. "Touch her again and you'll find death much more desirable," Vegeta spat, lightly bringing his knee to the man's midriff. The man doubled over, gasping for air in between choking coughs.

Vegeta once again ascended, not caring if the man saw him. In one arm was his little brat, her head hanging down like a ragged doll. He returned to where Trunks was and dropped his youngest on a nearby bench.

If the boy couldn't find her here, then the boy deserved to agonize over his sister's disappearance forever. Vegeta snorted.

* * *

_No Trunks! I said to put it back!_

_Mommy! I want it! Please!_

_No!_

And he cried and screamed just like how Bra had acted in the supermarket. All his childhood memories came back. He had no right getting mad at Bra. He had been the same, but at least his mom had been patient with him. She had not left him behind like he did to Bra.

Trunks sat on the edge of the sidewalk with his hands covering his face, feeling guilty and at lost at what to do. He asked just about everyone if they had seen the little brat, but nothing. _Mom...what should I do? _He should not have left Bra no matter how mad he got.

It was sudden as if her ki had magically manifested from thin air. He sprung up. He was sure it was her. Without another thought, Trunks speeded down the street until he saw a small blue-haired body, curled up in a fetal position, sleeping soundly on some bench. After all the troubles he went through looking for her, she was here. He didn't bother wondering how he suddenly felt her ki when he couldn't do so earlier. He also didn't know rather to be angry or relief. Pushing both emotions aside, he bent down and picked up his brat sister.

With his sister in his arms, he looked up in the sky and said, "Mom, I know you're looking after us. Thank you."

When he got home, he found his dad leaning against the wall as if waiting for them. "So you found the brat. What a shame. I thought we can have some peace and quiet for once," his dad snorted.

Who was he kidding? His dad made it clear that he wanted nothing to do with them. He did not leave because of a promise he made his mom. Without that promise, his dad would have been long gone.

"Sorry to disappoint you," Trunks rebutted, passing his dad without another word.

"Hmph."

* * *

**A/N: **First of all, I would like to thank all the reviewers. Thank you elleelle, Cara2012, miikodesu and star870 for your review! And elleelle, thank you for the great idea for a chapter. I never thought about writing in Bulma's POV. You really got me thinking and will definitely give it a try!

About future chapters, I will definitely write one on what happened to Bulma, I just don't know when yet. ^_^

Thanks for reading and please share your thoughts on this chapter!


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